


The Water's Sweet

by LillithBlack



Series: Blood and Water [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: All the same trigger warnings as canon apply, Assasins, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Freshmen Foxes, M/M, Post-The King's Men, Sibling AU, So many OCs, Team as Family, Too much Yakuza, but also sort of, mary hatford is a twin okay, selling children to the yakuza, so many twins, tags will be updated as I write so please keep an eye out, twins au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillithBlack/pseuds/LillithBlack
Summary: Neil has his whole life ahead of him even if it is forfeit to the Moriayama's.Mari has a whole life behind her and she won't let something like having to spy on her brother stop her plans.Or the one where Neil just wants to play exy and enjoy his second year but he never does manage to find his chill, Andrew might finally put all his ghosts to rest, Ichirou has a personal assassin unit that he uses pretty liberally, the new foxes are chaotic and troublesome for our new vice captain, there are simply too many tragic fire related backstories and we got OCs out the wazoo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first Foxhole Court fic. I read the books three months ago and they took over my brain and heart, idk how to go a day without crying about these traumatized children. The answer ofc was to write a fic about even more traumatised children.
> 
> This is a labour of love.... for myself. And as such is a totally self indulgent fic with a ton of OC's around every corner. There are going to be some serious issues dealt with and the portrayal of abusive relationships ( that will clearly be shown as abusive by the end so please be aware of that.) Look theres a lot of cute and fluff but also of serious terrible things so just a warning.
> 
> Also for some of the bits in this fic to work you may have to suspend disbelief and have Neil's First Year at PSU be set in like 2009 or 2010. Smart Phones are a thing okay.
> 
> A million thanks to [Sy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/syrenhug/pseuds/syrenhug) for the Beta and dealing with my terrible grammar and issues with Commas hehe. And also to [Lowen](http://zimbitsgarbage.tumblr.com/) for listening to me scream about this for the past month and being so good and enthusiastic about it. Luh yew buddy.
> 
> Updates will be Sporadic till I can get the biggest chunks of this story written out and then go onto a weekly schedule around the end of the summer hopefully.

Tetsuji sat next to his nephew in the couch, bent at the waist. The boy he had raised from the age of six months slumped and motionless beside him. The blood soaking into Tetsuji’s jacket was warm.

 

Nathaniel Wesninski said, “I am satisfied.”

 

Tetsuji barely heard the insolent words exchanged between the striker and his new master. He did not rise from his uncomfortable position until Wesninski left, until Hatford rumbled his platitudes and was led out. Until all that remained in the darkened room was Tetsuji, Ichirou and Riko.

 

In the resounding silence, a door creaked open.

 

Painfully easing himself upright Tetsuki met startling blue eyes and a cruel smirk. Ichirou ignored him and spoke to the girl who entered the room.

 

“And what did you think,” he gestured to the couch behind him as if continuing a conversation. “Of my brother?”

 

Amari Moriyama slinked up to Ichirou. She glanced dispassionately at the body slumped beside Tetsuji before favoring him with a hard stare.

 

“My advice was to bring him to heel,” she said, looking at Tetsuji. A smile stretched across her face. “Not put him down but whatever works my Lord.” she slipped an arm through Ichirou’s casually and he allowed her.

 

The two looked at each other, easily ignoring Tetsuji’s presence - who was wise enough to keep still and silent.

 

“And what of yours?” Ichirou asked, pulling her closer in a most intimate manner, hand on her waist. But Tetsuji could see the steel in his grip and the slight tensing of Amari’s shoulders.

 

She didn’t break eye contact when she replied, but the offense was undeniable in her tone, “My brothers are adequate, my Lord, and dare I say efficient. Both of them are at home where we left them.”

 

When Ichirou didn’t respond she mocked, “If you’re asking about Wesninski… He’s certainly unsettling to look at, but worth the gamble.”

 

“Mmm.” Ichirou hummed, loosening his hold. “I hope you watched closely as I have an assignment for you.”

 

“Assignment?” Amari was all wide-eyed curiosity and fluttering eyelashes. Tetsuji didn’t buy her innocent act for a second, neither did Ichirou for that matter but he continued on nonetheless, indulging her.

 

“There’s far too many troubling variables around _this_ particular investment, Mari. Too many loose ends.” He let go of everything but her hand. Amari’s expression cycled from curious to furious to stony. “I’d like you keep a close eye on it for me, a very close eye.”

 

Amari dropped his hand, stepping back.

 

“Me? _Now_ ? But I should be with _you_. I should be helping you reassert control.” she burst out, agitated.

 

“Are you refusing me?” Ichirou’s voice was flat and a lesser woman might have quailed.

 

“No my lord, I - No.” she tugged irately at her fringe then reached for Ichirou, “I would never, you know this. I just don’t understand, my place is at your side. I should be in the city with you. You’re still consolidating your power -”

 

Ichirou reached up to cup her cheek, cutting off her pleas. The same hand he’d used to hold his brother’s face mere minutes ago. The blood cooling on his clothes told Tetsuji as much.

 

“Think of it as one last _holiday_ before you take your rightful place,” Ichirou offered, almost cajolingly. Tetsuji was sure he’d never heard it from his nephew before.

 

“I don’t need anymore holidays.” She snapped.

 

“Do not, make me ask again, Amari.” he grabbed her imploring hand on his chest by the wrist twisting it away.

 

“But Ichirou -” she caught herself before she went any further, shooting Tetsuji a venomous look before acquiescing,“Of course, I’ll do it.”

 

“Good. Your flight leaves tomorrow. Shime should have everything ready for you by the time you get back to New York.”

 

Tetsuji couldn't help the disgust he felt displaying itself across his features, which wasn’t missed by Amari. She threw her long hair over her shoulder and looked down at him.

 

“I’ll be stopping in Baltimore.” She announced defiantly and at Ichirou’s raised eyebrow amended with a smirk. “Well, I’ll need some sort of ace up my sleeve, won’t I?”

 

Ichirou raised a hand to her cheek , brushing over it in a light caress.

 

“I will miss you.” she told him solemnly before turning away. Ichirou let his arm drop and didn’t reply.

 

He turned to face Tetsuji as the door creaked shut behind her.

 

“I _still_ say you would be better off with the Yamaguchi girl.” Tetsuji informed him.

 

“Do not overstep, uncle,” Ichirou’s lip raised with contempt, “You are a Moriyama in name alone now. The sooner you learn you new place the easier it will be for you.”

 

It was a clear dismissal, the likes of which Tetsuji hadn’t felt since his older brother had been a young man.

 

Minutes later, bloody clothes discarded, Tetsuji took the elevator down to the lower levels of the Nest. His simmering temper flared when he saw who was standing in the security room, intent on the monitor for the Away side locker rooms.

 

Amari turned, smirk replacing the pensive frown on her face.

 

“Didn’t I warn you? One day you’ll be the one who is _nothing_. Oh, Tetsuji, why couldn't you have listened?” she taunted in English.

 

The grip around his cane shook from exhaustion and the suppressed need to beat her bloody.

 

“As far as I’m concerned the only nothing here is you.” he managed through his rage.

 

She scoffed nearly dancing out past him.The only thing stopping him from turning after her was the flash of steel in her hands as she went. And his curiosity.

 

He limped to the monitors and looked down at the figures of Wesninski and his guard dog entwined at the entrance to the locker room for another minute before they left.

 

Tetsuji mastered his building rage, contemplating the empty screen in front of him instead. Everything he had spent building his entire life had been destroyed the second Kevin Day had scored the last game winning shot. Tetsuji almost couldn't be disappointed that the boy he wished had been his son, was living proof of his legacy. But, on the other hand, his true son was dead and with him the empire Tetsuji had carved from the scraps of his brother’s mercy.

 

How could it have gone so wrong so quickly?

 

The first signs of trouble had been the reappearance of Wesninski’s brat, of course. He hadn't heard what he’d said to Riko on the court but he could imagine it hadn't been pretty for Riko to have  abandoned his senses so.

 

That entire team, especially that goalkeeper, were stains on the beauty of the game he had created with Kayleigh. To add insult to injury it was their coach she gave herself to, when Tetsuji had been in front of her the whole time.

 

The last and final nail in his coffin, in his brother’s coffin, the impudent chit who had Ichirou’s ear and maybe his heart. Amari Moriyama was a problem that if he didn't extinguish, Tetsuji would never rest easy. He would not be taken the way Kengo had been.

 

He was broken, that was true, but not defeated. Everything he’d worked for gone, but not his life. A life he wasn’t interested in living, save for to punish the ones who had taken everything away from him. As long as there was breath in his lungs, he would see his revenge.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp there's the Prologue. Next time Neil has some FUN TIMES splainin' himself.
> 
> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr.](http://buckywithegoodhair.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops did I say I'd update in a week haha.
> 
> Thankyou for everyone who read and gave Kudos so far!
> 
> A BIG OLD SHOUTOUT to [lillaseptember](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lillaseptember/pseuds/lillaseptember) for giving me hope that this fic idea full of OC's isn't completely ridiculous, after all if someone else is doing a sibling au it can't be all that crazy can it? Heh check out Wisdom like a sister. A fic I'm far too invested in right now :P
> 
> Again Thanks to [Sy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/syrenhug/pseuds/syrenhug) for the Beta!!
> 
> Music: [“You’ve Got Time”](https://open.spotify.com/track/1vDMGBzqLJWZC5UzePDURw) by Regina Spektor

 

**Neil**

 

The full effect of his exhaustion didn’t dawn on Neil until his knees buckled. The only thing keeping him up was Andrew’s steady weight, pinning him to the locker room wall. The reality of the day crashed down on him. He didn’t know whether it was relief or delayed shock coiling cold through his gut and he wasn’t going to wait to find out. Not here. Now now.

 

Something must have shown in his stance though, because Andrew immediately pulled back, scanning his face cautiously for the reason.

 

Neil shook his head, unwilling to explain here and pulled him back in, for a brief but gentle brush of lips. Andrew allowed it. Neil found his feet under him and said, “I don’t want to spend another second in this place.”

 

Andrew didn’t reply except to pick up both their bags, not relenting his hold of Neil’s duffel even when he tried taking it. A solid shove to Neil’s shoulder got him moving.

 

They didn’t hurry out of the oppressive locker room to catch up with the rest of the team but it was a near thing.

 

Wymack was standing with a lit cigarette at the door of the bus waiting for them. He grunted at the sight of them, flicked it away and stomped up the steps. The atmosphere inside was jubilant despite the Foxes’ exhaustion. Neil studiously pretended to ignore the whistles and money exchanging hands while Andrew went around the side to stow their bags.

 

He idled at the door waiting for Andrew, his back to the looming shadow of Evermore. His neck prickled at the thought of a hundred watchful eyes. He’d just stepped on after Andrew when they heard the first sounds of an ambulance siren.

 

Andrew stopped dead halfway down the aisle. He turned to pin Neil with a bored if accusatory stare and Wymack asked, “What did you do now?”

 

“I think we should leave,” Neil told the questioning stares of the team.

 

“What's going on?” Kevin peered out of the windows.

 

“As soon as possible,” Neil told Wymack trying to convey the urgency with his eyes. “Coach, let’s go.”

 

There were police sirens now too but Abby was already pulling the bus out of the parking lot. The jubilant atmosphere on the bus was swiftly overpowered by expressions turned uneasy and wary.

 

“You _are_ going to explain this.” Wymack informed him firmly settling down on the first seat.

 

Neil was too tired for all of this, burnout from the game and the questioning taking its toll on him. The sudden threat of death, the immediate spike and fall of adrenaline left him hollow, pulled him down. He hadn’t moved from the middle of the aisle, hand clamped around the back of the seat watching the lights of the ambulance through the back windows. Before his legs could buckle again he promptly sat down in the closest seat, which happened to be Nicky’s.

 

Andrew stood impassive in the aisle, looking back at the disappearing shape of Evermore a moment before he flicked a thumb at Nicky, “Move.”

 

Nicky almost brained himself in his haste to follow the order and scrambled over the back of the seat, dropping down beside Aaron instead. Andrew neatly sat down next to Neil shuffling him further in, hand on the back of his neck.

 

It was the only thing keeping Neil grounded in the moment, his body and mind so drained he felt like he would have floated away otherwise. No one remarked on the change in seating, maybe they were too tired or maybe they had gotten better at reading Neil’s face.

 

“Explain.” Andrew prompted and then waited. If Neil was anyone else he wouldn't have noticed the tremble of weariness down Andrew’s arm.

 

Neil looked up to see Kevin, Dan and Matt turned around towards him in the next seat, Renee and Allison beyond them. They were all looking at him a touch worried and Neil wanted to keep quiet, they had been put through enough today. He knew rationally that after they got over the initial shock everyone would be as satisfied as he was over Riko’s death.

 

But then he saw Kevin’s face and amended that assessment. There was no help for it though, because all their guests were waiting back at the hotel. Neil couldn't explain why he knew Riko Moriyama was dead before even the police did but he didn't want to leave his teammates in the lurch.

 

He stared blankly past the upperclassmen at the road ahead as Abby turned the bus out of Edgar Allen’s campus gates. “Riko is dead.”

 

The bus jerked along with Abby’s foot on the accelerator, leaving a heart beat of started silence.

Then everyone was talking at once, questions flying. Only Andrew at his side and Kevin in front of him remained silent. He didn't hear what was said, too busy staring Kevin down, trying to relay the truth of his words through eye contact alone.

 

“No,” Kevin said, turning grey.

 

He twisted away to look at Wymack, as if hoping his father could contradict Neil. But Wymack only stared at Neil with his eyebrows raised.

 

Kevin turned back to Neil shaking and said in French, ”Stop this. You’ve hurt him, he won't play again. Don't say things like that.”

 

“I saw it, Kevin. Ichirou made it look like suicide. But he's dead. He's dead.” Neil replied in English for everyone's benefit. There were hisses and gasps all around.

 

“Guess baby brother finally put enough of a toe out of line.” Andrew concluded.

 

“Good.” Aaron said and Nicky made a high dramatic sound of disbelief.

 

The upperclassmen looked stunned.

 

“Is this why you were gone so long?” Wymack finally asked. Kevin looked between them, head swinging like he was watching a tennis match. Neil shrugged.

 

Dan let out fluttery breath.”Well, at least we know the theme for tomorrow's Trophy ceremony now. Still Raven Black.”

 

“Will they hold a funeral do you think? Will we have to go? I don’t have anything to wear.” Nicky peered out the back window as if Coach Moriyama would come chasing them any second with a gilded invitation.

 

“Fuck that, I say we toast the hell out of this.” Allison said savagely, “He killed Seth.”

 

Kevin let out pained moan and both Matt and Dan moved to comfort him, futile as it was, while Renee tried to calm a jubilant Allison. News delivered, Neil closed his eyes and slumped in his seat, almost leaning on Andrew.

 

Andrew, an immovable weight at side, held perfectly still.

 

By the time they got to the hotel, almost everyone had moved through their requisite five stages and were mostly at the exhausted, celebratory phase already. Except Kevin, who wouldn't look at Neil and was still white as a sheet. It was odd to sit in the middle of the bus with everyone clumped so close together.

 

Idly, Neil wondered how the seating order would change next year with all the new faces on the team. He marvelled at the fact that he could allow himself to wonder about such a thing. He simply had to wait a few months to find the answer. It felt like he had forever to look forward to.

 

Kevin barreled past everyone when they got to the hotel. Most people were gathered in a main room connecting the teams’ suites, Palmetto having forked out quite the sum for their place in the finals. Kevin didn’t go right for the mini-bar like Neil had suspected, but marched straight into his room and reached for the remote. Andrew and Neil followed him in there, still set on autopilot Kevin duty.

 

Outside Nicky was loudly proclaiming his love for Erik and the first person who was going to hand him a drink, meanwhile the Vixens and Dan’s stage sisters came pouring in followed by a lot of high pitched squealing. Kevin turned on the TV. Wymack and Dan came to stand in the doorway, watching.

 

“Kevin, there won’t be anything there yet.” Neil tried to cross in front of him but Kevin didn’t even look up at him. Neil didn’t know what to do with this Kevin, shouldn't he be happy, he was free. Neil could remember feeling nothing but relief after watching the bullet tear through his father. That or numbness. Riko was Kevin’s Nathan, so why did Kevin look worse than he ever did when the Moriyama threat had hung over their heads?

 

Neil tried again but Kevin damn near shoved him out of the way, flicking through news channels. ESPN were actually talking about the final but the only clips they seemed to want to play was every angle of Andrew swinging his racket at Riko. The fourth time they heard the crack of bones breaking and Riko’s shriek, Kevin turned the TV off and threw the remote at the wall. Then he went for the minibar. Neil didn’t stop him but he felt useless, restless. All this energy bounced off Kevin and smacked right into him. He didn’t know what to do with it.

 

Here was Kevin Day, mere hours after having scored an impossible goal and winning the Championship, the best striker in the game, ready to drown himself in alcohol for a brother who had only ever used and abused him.

 

When Kevin downed his fourth mini wine bottle in less than a minute, Neil moved towards him again with a half formed intentions. However, a hand at his shoulder stopped him. He turned to see Andrew, who shook his head and motioned for Neil to follow him out of the room. Watching the train wreck, at an exasperated Wymack’s side, Dan asked, “What? All year you two are his guards and _now_ you leave him?”

 

Before Neil could reply, Andrew said, “The King is dead, long live the Queen. He’s your problem tonight.”

 

Then he hooked two fingers in the collar of Neil’s shirt and pulled him out, past the crowd of celebrators who tried to draw them in. Matt was grinning ear to ear, squished between both parents, the others already setting up drinks under Nicky’s supervision. Only Renee’s intervention and Andrew’s blank expression kept any of the Vixens from ending up as collateral as they cut a path across the room. Neil caught Bee’s eye just before letting Andrew drag him out, she smiled and he turned away quickly.

 

They ended up on the hotel roof, too tired to talk or play any kind of truth games but not tired enough to smoke. It wasn’t their roof, but it made a nice substitute for the moment. Neil held the cigarette in his hand and spared a vindictive thought for his mother. What would she say to him now? What could she say? He was happy and he was free to play. He had a place to call home and a reason to stay. It was more than she had ever given him.

 

Andrew had lifted a bottle of champagne from the drinks table down stairs, from which he took occasional swigs. Neil made a face after only one sip and stayed away from it.

 

“So you managed to evade death twice in one evening?” Andrew finally asked him.

 

Neil shrugged.

 

“Are you satisfied?” The same thing Ichirou had asked him. In the exact same words. Neil turned to look at him surprise.

  
“No.” Neil felt his face split into a grin, “Not yet, we still have next year’s Trophy to win.”

Andrew didn’t roll his eyes, but he might as well have.

 

“Junkie.” He muttered and handed Neil another cigarette without asking.

 

The sky was lightening by the time they made it back. They hadn’t talked much after that because there would be so much time to talk, time to deal with Kevin’s multiple breakdowns, time to define what ‘this’ was between them if they wanted to. Neil had nothing but time and he was ready to spend it. **  
**  


 

* * *

 

**Mari**

 

The ambulance sirens painted the inside of the car red and blue as it peeled away from Evermore. Amari watched the taillights of the Palmetto Foxes bus veer in front of her before it turned and was lost to view. The driver pulled onto the Interstate and she closed her eyes against the rush of the few cars flying by in the middle of the night.

 

The impulse to speed the entire way back to New York had been so strong, Amari thought that if she had gotten behind the wheel she would never be able to stop. Instead she’d silently sat in the back seat, informed Ichirou’s man they were stopping in Maryland and stilled her hands by tucking them beneath her thighs.

 

Ichirou’s order was unexpected as it was final. She _wasn’t_ surprised that he’d killed Riko, even if part of her was repulsed at how easily he’d pulled the trigger. They were brothers, despite not meeting their entire lives. Ichirou never cared for this fact, except in passing, to note the potential revenue Evermore and its various assets could procure. It wasn’t any secret at the Main house that Riko had craved his father and brother’s attention. Pathetic as it was expected it still rankled Ichirou, not Riko’s desire but his actions. The paper trail leading straight to Riko Moriyama and back to the Main house in his quest to bully and harass the Foxes was easy to vanish, but the disgust Ichirou felt over such an oversight wasn’t.

 

He disposed of the liability as soon as he could and with his own two hands, considering the personal nature of the action. It wouldn't do to have an enforcer end the life of a Moriyama, not a precedent he wanted to set in his new empire.

 

And could she do that? Could Amari pull the trigger on her own blood if Ichirou asked?

 

Because he could ask. He wasn’t setting her the task of watching Nathaniel Wesninski and his little band of rejects for nothing. She’d slipped up somewhere. Something had Ichirou questioning her unfaltering loyalty, doubting her devotion to him. He was deliberately putting her in a position to test her commitment when she hadn’t once flinched away from her duty as a Moriyama blade, not to his knowledge. She had barely blinked at the news of her parents’ deaths. So why would he think this would affect her? She knew that thinking about it now would just have her going in endless circles analyzing her every reaction for the last year with little result, so she focused instead on the task at hand.

 

By flight she assumed she was heading back to England to solidify her cover there.

 

Shime picked up on the first ring even though it was nearly four in the morning by now. She was efficient as always, and had emailed over most of the relevant information to Amari’s phone by the time they entered Baltimore. She stayed on the line, talking Amari through the details of who she was going to pretend to be for the foreseeable future.

 

“How long will you be in Baltimore?”

 

“Dunno, you miss me already, kid?” Amari tried not to yawn.

 

“You have an appointment with our usual hairdresser at ten this morning, I just want to know if I need to move it.” Shime’s tone was flat. Amari cringed both at the comment and the fact that she wasn’t the only person being inconvenienced by this mission.

 

“Please tell me I don’t have to get it cut?”

 

“Bleached. Miss Hamill is a blonde.”

 

Amari was only slightly mollified at the thought, having her hair cut was a trauma she still hadn't conquered. But as traumas went, crying every time her hair was cut was relatively harmless.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be home for breakfast, you better get everyone to come wish me goodbye. San’s back from L.A., right?”

 

She didn’t need Shime to answer, Amari knew the other’s schedules as well as Shime did. They both knew it was just Amari’s attempt at placating the worry Shime was exuding through the phone.

 

Shime didn’t reply, but the car pulled up in front of a large house, cordoned off by police tape in a well-to-do neighbourhood. Apparently, the girl already knew where Amari was, because a man waited behind the police barricade.

 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” Amari shot at the phone, before getting out of the car.

 

The driver with orders to circle the block till she was finished pulled the car away as soon as she slammed the door. The man in the nondescript coat, which clearly screamed police out of uniform, led her into the house.?

 

Amari wasn’t sure what she was supposed to find here, but the second Ichirou stopped alluding to her blood and asked her outright about it, she felt the desire to make her way here.

 

The Butcher’s house.

 

She left her escort at the door and ventured in alone. The dated look of the place was clearly due to years of vacancy. On the first floor landing was a picture of an austere family that brought her up short. Nathan and his wife, a waifish woman with a haughty expression, and their son. His eyes large and blue in a small, expressionless face. Amari gaped before mastering her expression - even though there was no one around to see it.

 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen pictures of these people before, she’d even met the Butcher. But to have the physical proof of them as people who lived and breathed and died here in this house was still disturbing.

 

She tore her eyes away and moved on.

 

Only three of the five rooms looked like they had been in any kind of use in the last few years. She didn’t even look at the master bedroom. A nursery connected to another bedroom and she wandered through it first. It was no warmer than any of the rooms Amari had grown up in, but the presence of a child was still visible in the furniture, the small desk in the corner. She hurried out of there too.

 

The next room was eerily preserved even better than the nursery. It was a woman’s room.

Mary Wesninski’s vanity looked like she had just left it not minutes ago. There were clothes in her wardrobe and a frame on her desk, a picture of her with her son. Amari trailed a hand through the dust on the dressing table and regarded the picture. Mary Wesninski or rather Mary Hatford had brown hair that was too light to be truly considered brown and too dark to be called blonde. Where her eyes had been pinched and drawn in the portrait outside, here they were smiling as she looked at the boy in her lap. Young Nathaniel couldn't be older than five or six in the photo, his chubby cheeks pulled into a smile that mirrored his mother’s. Amari didn’t have any pictures of herself at that age. Older yes, maybe even younger too, but not this age.

 

It wasn’t difficult to pry open the frame and pull out the faintly yellowed picture. She glanced around the room feeling like an intruder, but didn’t want to leave just yet. There were ghosts here, not her ghosts but they sure felt like they wanted to be. She looked at the bed and wondered if Mary had given birth at home or in a hospital.

 

At last she snatched up a tube of cream moisturizer, that was most likely years out of date. It felt absurd but being here she wanted to own something that belonged to this woman. Looking for jewellry would attract too much attention. Arbitrary as the little trinket was, she wanted something to remind her that _someone_ had existed here. She stared at Nathaniel's face in the picture and felt like ripping it to shreds. Instead she turned on her heel and walked out without looking back. With the picture in one hand and the tube in the other she marched out of the house, that in another world might have been a home.

 

The street was bathed in the pale light of dawn and Amari didn’t look behind her as she got in the car. Despite the complication of this assignment, if her plan worked, Amari Moriyama would never have to look behind her ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if that it's so slow, this thing is going to pretty much follow the original series with the first Part being slooow and things heating up for Part 2 and 3. Believe me I'm already regretting how long this thing is planned to be.
> 
> Next chapter we take a detour to England and heart eyes motherfucker!Neil is alive and well.
> 
> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr.](http://buckywithegoodhair.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil just wants to sleep and Mari remembers London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said updates would be patchy right?
> 
> Eternal thanks to [Lowen](http://zimbitsgarbage.tumblr.com/) for putting up with me yelling about this fic 24/7. And [Nene](http://inthecompanyofbooks.tumblr.com/) and [Tati](http://aquadex.tumblr.com/) for every single comma added. idk where I would be without y'all.
> 
> Mentions of alcohol abuse and it's consequences. I'm gonna try putting trigger warnings for specific chapters but if u want anything tagged lemme know.
> 
> Music: [“Rather Be”](https://open.spotify.com/track/3s4U7OHV7gnj42VV72eSZ6) by Clean bandit

**Neil**

 

The day after their Championship game, only half the Foxes managed to make it to Edgar Allen for the Trophy ceremony. Neil had been too wired for sleep and Kevin had still been awake when they returned to the suite. He wasn’t sure about the others getting much sleep either but only Dan, Matt and Wymack had managed to make it to the bus in the morning.

 

The grounds of Evermore were already swarming with press and they had no illusions that it had anything to do with them. Even in death Riko garnered more attention than the rejects with a trophy. Still it was unexpected when the second they touched down there were cameras and mikes in their faces.

 

“Kevin Day what do you have to say about the suicide of Riko Moriyama in the early hours of this morning?”

 

“Did you know your best friend was suicidal?”

 

“Do you think your teammate irrevocably injuring Riko was the reason he decided to end his life?”

 

They were herded back into the oppressive weight of the building with security on either side. The ceremony itself was a blur of incumbent events, a speech by the the NCAA chairman, the handover of the trophy and staunch disregard for the reporters clamoring for a statement.

 

Neil stood in line behind Dan and kept his eyes trained on the trophy.

 

Tetsuji Moriyama stood on a small stage opposite the Foxes and stared blankly at Neil the whole time. Kevin was pale and silent throughout the entire ordeal.

 

Afterwards, Tetsuji walked up to Kevin speaking in low tones. Wymack stepped up beside Kevin a second later placing a hand on his shoulder. Neil wanted to hear what was being said but he had no wish to be anywhere near Tetsuji or let Andrew, already fingering his arm bands, near him for that matter. He stood where he was with the others, watched Kevin begin to bow his head automatically towards Tetsuji, abruptly jerk back up and look to Wymack in panic. His face getting paler and paler until Wymack tightened his hold on his son's shoulder and joined the conversation.

 

Neil closed his eyes and imagined being back a Fox Tower in a few hours’ time. Maybe they could pick up ice cream for Andrew and take away for everyone else and have another team night, or maybe everyone would want to go out celebrating again. Either way, he couldn’t wait to sleep. He opened his eyes to Wymack informing them that Riko’s funeral was planned for the next day, that he would be staying behind with Kevin who wanted to attend and that the Foxes were to take their scheduled flight back.

 

Dan looked like she would protest, but a glance at Andrew showed he certainly wouldn't. Kevin too looked at Andrew expectantly, as if he would disagree with this decision that for all intents and purposes looked like Kevin’s own. When no protest was forthcoming from his protector, he just slumped further down and looked miserably at the ground. Andrew tugged on Neil’s sleeve and led them all back out of Evermore.

 

When Kevin returned to the tower a few days later his first stop was the Vodka, and day in day out, that appeared to be his only stop. Neil didn't care as long as he continued to show up for their evening practices. Nicky even joked that Kevin was probably three fourths alcohol instead of water at this stage. For the most part he appeared to have dealt with it, his answers for press clearly in line with whatever the Moriyama media team wanted put out there, they really should have known better.

 

The end of the semester came faster than Neil expected and before he knew it, they were moving out of the dorms, his first year at Palmetto State University at an end. It felt all at once normal to pack up his entire life and move and raw as hell to have actually accumulated enough items to fit into more than one bag. Even if it was just the short trek to Abby’s house where they were staying for the summer as Kevin refused to leave the vicinity of the Foxhole court for even a second.

 

Allison was going home with Renee, Dan and Matt were spending the summer together halving it between each other’s homes. Nicky, of course, was flying to Germany. There had been talk of another team holiday but dates hadn’t aligned and without a serious incident to force them Kevin and Aaron had been difficult to convince.

 

Neil said goodbye to the upperclassmen and Nicky at the Airport with Aaron and Katelyn. Kevin had deigned to sleep his hangover off in bed and Andrew was waiting in the car. Nicky said it was because emotional goodbyes weren't his thing but Neil was pretty sure it was just because Katelyn was present. Aaron left with her without so much as a nod at Neil, who didn't ask where he was going or for how long. After extracting himself from Nicky’s tearful embrace -the only emotional part about the whole ordeal- Neil escaped to the heat of the parking lot.

 

Andrew was still polishing off a cigarette and inexplicably let Neil drive the short drive back to Abby’s house. Neil looked forward to a quiet summer on the court with Kevin and maybe even Andrew if he was feeling generous.

 

He should have known better.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later the Maserati accelerated down an empty stretch of road, the summer sun still lingering low in the sky. Neil sat in the passenger seat, leaning against the window, his eyes straying across the space between them every few seconds without his permission.

 

Andrew would flick his eyes sideways over his sunglasses every time he caught Neil at it but he’d remained silent so far.

 

They were headed to the Columbia house. While Neil’s patience with Kevin if not Exy, had ran out a week into their summer holidays, Andrew had actually managed to hold out for another. But driving Kevin to the Emergency room for alcohol poisoning had been the last straw apparently. The whole ordeal had ended in tears, mostly Kevin’s and a strict schedule of daily sessions with Betsy for the rest for the summer if Kevin wanted to avoid words like ‘rehab’ and ‘academic probation’.

 

A day back at Edgar Allen seemed enough to break a year's work at PSU growing a spine.

 

Alone at Abby’s house for once, Neil and Andrew had just gotten comfortable on the bed when the call had come through. Andrew had sworn softly under his breath as they’d thrown their shirts back on and made for the car.

 

Kevin’s total breakdown shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone, but somehow it did. The signs had all been there, but no one had wanted to acknowledge them, too high on their incredible win and living life. Only Andrew seemed unperturbed at the scene. Almost as if he’d been waiting for it.

 

Nicky had downright yelled down the phone from Germany and Dan had threatened to book her flight back then and there until she had been persuaded otherwise by her boyfriend and Wymack. Even Allison had sent Neil a text that simply said: Kevin: 0, Vodka: 100.

 

Renee had called and had Neil hand over the phone to Kevin in his hospital bed (who had been barred from his own, and looking at any social media for that matter. Apparently the appeal of wine grew with every article about Riko Moriyama that he read). She spoke to him at length and Kevin only said yes or no in response but she seemed satisfied when Neil got his phone back.

 

Neil for his part, wasn't sure how to respond, Kevin drinking to deal with his upbringing and fear of the Ravens wasn’t something new to him. How it could get this bad once the danger had passed didn’t make sense either. He didn’t know how to fix it or what to say to Kevin, so he didn’t say much. He just brought Kevin coffee and sat on the chair by his hospital bed for the four days he was there and watched reruns of Exy matches with him.

 

Wymack was having a field day trying to deflect the press getting a hold of any information about Kevin.

 

Still they were all reassured by Wymack, Abby and even Betsy, that Kevin could do with some solitude to reflect, so Neil didn’t exactly question Andrew when he decided they were skipping town. He tried not to let his eagerness show, but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding.

 

They packed their bags the second Kevin was safely sequestered at Wymack’s under Abby’s careful supervision and left Palmetto the very next day. It could easily have been that he got tired of the constant disruption of their time together, or he just didn't appreciate being vomited on by one, Kevin Day. Either way they were going to be blessedly alone and Andrew had suggested it.

 

While giving up his twenty-four seven access to the Foxhole Court felt a little sacrilegious, compared to how desperate he had been a year ago coming from Millport and their joke of a collapsible court, Neil couldn't say no to this.

 

He wondered what they would do by themselves, Neil had never had time to just idly spend. Whether it be Exy, learning a new language or just doing his best to disappear into the background, there was alway something to do, some greater goal to work towards.

 

Andrew was slowly subjecting Neil to a host of pop culture media using Abby’s TV most evenings and Neil didn’t suspect that would let up. He’d seen the entertainment set up the Columbia house boasted, Andrew had spared no expense.

 

Neil found himself glancing at him across the car again and quickly averted his eyes.

 

The tilt of Andrew’s mouth wasn't disapproving exactly, but if Neil squinted just right he could call it indulgent. Not that Neil would. Still, he couldn't stop himself from peeking across at him again.

 

“Staring,” Andrew finally said and Neil felt himself go warm all over. He pulled his gaze away and looked out the window. Although, how he was expected to do anything but stare with the sun painting Andrew golden in its glow was beyond him.

 

Usually he was quite unabashed about looking whenever he wanted, the rest of the team had even stopped making fun of him for it by now. But a tension stretched between them that made Neil feel hot, an itch he couldn't get to persisting under his skin.

 

“Am I not allowed to look?” he muttered willing his flush away.

 

Andrew snorted. “Didn’t say that.”

 

So Neil turned his head and took his fill of looking. He traced the bridge of Andrew’s nose in profile with his eyes, down to his lips and the line of his throat. Then he had to look away again, because the blush still hadn’t left his cheeks and he felt like Andrew was just making fun of him without even saying a single thing.

 

Neil had gotten some sort of control over his stupid beating heart by the time they pulled into the house and brought their bags inside. Andrew immediately flopped onto the couch and turned the TV on while Neil poked and prodded around the kitchen before finally calling for take away. He was in the process of confirming their order, standing in front of the sofa out of spite because Andrew was ignoring him in favour of a stupid game show, when he felt a pull on his pant leg.

 

He turned the phone off and Andrew asked, “Yes or no?”

 

“Yes.” Neil answered swallowing, his heart returned to its stupid rapid pace from the car.

 

Andrew tugged until Neil was straddling him on the sofa, one leg supporting him on the ground the other between Andrew’s thigh and the sofa back.

 

It was a precarious position of balance, more so when Andrew tugged again and Neil bent down with his hands on either side of Andrew’s head. He made sure not to lay on top of Andrew, knowing that wouldn't be okay. Part of him wanted Andrew to flip their positions but at the same time this was a completely different angle to admire him from, even if it took a little more work.

 

This was new territory and Neil felt awkward and stiff in this position at first.

 

“We were interrupted last time,” Andrew said before pulling Neil’s head down for a kiss.

 

“That was yesterday,” Neil protested between kisses but Andrew shrugged and Neil, not sure why he was protesting in the first place, followed his lead.

 

* * *

 

 

After Andrew left him breathing hard and still flushed red on the sofa, Neil took his time zipping his jeans and levering himself up. Andrew had kissed him until Neil was sure he couldn't feel his own face anymore and then finally flipped them over so Neil’s head thumped on the sofa cushion and he almost went cross eyed still trying to watch while Andrew slowly took him apart with hands and mouth. Whatever Andrew had said about Neil having a neck fetish it wasn't like _he_ had any less of one. By the time Neil came, Andrew had worked two teeth shaped marks into Neil’s neck.

 

Neil of course, had made a pathetically needy noise when he tried to move away right after, so unlike most times he relented and stayed to finish himself. Kissing Neil and rutting down against him until Neil was breathless and almost ready for more. Andrew came in his pants with a quiet huff into Neil’s mouth and then rapidly got up and went off for a shower.

 

Later, they had takeaway and watched mindless TV until it was time for bed.

 

Neil couldn't say he wasn’t a little apprehensive about their first night alone. Yes, they’d slept in the same bed before, but it had been some time ago and there was no immediate threat to keep them stuck together. Before, the trauma of Neil’s abduction had been shocking enough to keep Andrew from moving too far away but now without any threats to keep them close, would it be okay?  Neil only hoped he wouldn't move around and disturb Andrew at night. They’d been sleeping in the same room and sometimes in the same bed for afternoon naps for the last month, but this was altogether different.

 

Now, with no one around, the concept of sleeping together, just sleeping was so odd. Their first night in the house they stayed in Andrew's room. Neil, despite everything, still couldn't help but be on edge, silently worrying himself sick about their sleeping arrangements as they changed for bed.

 

He couldn’t help but lie very still, tense and unable to sleep. Andrew’s arm came up, stretched under his pillow. Neil wanted to turn and rest his head fully on Andrew’s arm but he wasn’t sure it was welcome.

 

“Go to sleep, stupid,” Andrew muttered, but Neil was wide awake.

 

It always used to be like this when he and his mother moved somewhere new and Neil wasn’t exhausted enough to fall asleep straight away. Sometimes, his mother would put an arm over him, and that used to anchor him enough that he could fall asleep. Other times, he would just resign himself to staying awake.

 

Andrew must have fallen asleep at some point because when Neil finally moved, his cramped limbs protesting too much, he came awake violently. Neil tried not to wheeze too loudly after the punch he got to the gut and Andrew did nothing but grunt and then hold his hand over Neil’s middle where he’d just hit him, moving it around slowly.

 

“I’m fine,” Neil said. They statred at each other in the dark quietly.

 

“Maybe I can go sleep in Nicky’s room,” Neil said finally.

 

Andrew didn’t protest when Neil moved to get up. He watched Neil grab his pillow and leave.

 

Of course Nicky’s bed was much colder, the sheets musty and unchanged. Neil actually managed to fall asleep for a few hours before waking back up from a nightmare he didn't remember except for his rapid heart beat. He didn't know how long he lay there staring up at the ceiling as the light of dawn broke outside before the door opened and Andrew peeked in.

 

His hair was sleep ruffled and sticking up at the back, eyes going red from lack of sleep. They stared at each other for a moment before Andrew wordlessly shuffled in with his own pillow and lay down beside Neil with careful distance between them. He smelled like fresh smoke. Neil rolled onto his side and reached out a hand across the space between them, to clutch at the hem of Andrew’s t-shirt and somehow fell asleep again.

 

The next morning after coming back in from his run, Neil found Andrew in the kitchen with his laptop open and a mug of coffee cooling on the kitchen counter. There was a second mug for Neil. Andrew was periodically clicking the refresh button. At Neil’s confusion he deliberately clicked again and asked, “Did you forget it’s actually a sports scholarship for _college_?”

 

Neil blinked over his shoulder at the screen.

 

“Oh.” he mumbled into his coffee, “Results,”

 

Neil hadn’t realised how focused Andrew actually was on his classes despite all their other priorities. Andrew hadn’t gotten to take his exams for the previous semester due to being in Easthaven, so he’d actually taken a lot more exams than the rest of them. Neil wasn’t quite sure how he managed it. The results must have shown up around the time they finished, because Andrew gave a satisfied hum, his eyes flying across the screen. Neil took a peek at the screen, there were a lot of A’s and a B or two. Andrew passed Neil the laptop to check his own and he was pleased to find that he'd managed to maintain his required GPA, though there were a lot less A’s on his list of course.

 

“You did so well,” Neil said sipping the last of his coffee and watching Andrew over the rim of his mug.

 

Andrew shrugged noncommittally, "There are uses for your time other than Exy."

 

“I know your memory helps but with everything else you really did.” Neil was determined to impress his admiration upon him.

 

Andrew didn't say anything for a while.  

 

“I’ve always been good at learning things.” he admitted finally. “When I was six one of my foster mother insisted I should be enrolled in the school’s ‘gifted programme’.”

 

He sounded derisive but Neil knew what it meant for Andrew to be sharing this information freely with him.  

 

“Were you?” he asked taking their dishes over to the sink.

 

Andrew snorted, “The house I lived in burned down one night, foster parents, kids and all, no one else thought I was ‘gifted’ after that.”

 

Neil paused his scrubbing, something about Andrew’s blank tone causing a niggling feeling at the back of his head. Then, he coined on to the age Andrew had mentioned.

 

“Did they all die?” he asked quietly drying off their plates and not looking up.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did they deserve it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

And then, “No. Not everyone”

 

Andrew got up taking the laptop with him to the living room, indicating that the topic was to be dropped.

 

Neil followed in his wake after making more coffee, feeling sleepy again already.

  
Together they registered for the next semester's classes, lining up their breaks together. Neil was hovering between Introduction to Japanese and a higher level French course when Andrew pointed at Intro to Russian on the list.

 

“Russian?” Neil asked.

 

“Do you know any?”

 

“Only a few phrases, we never really got that far east.”

 

“We’ll learn, then.”

 

“We will?” Neil looked away from the screen to stare at Andrew.

 

He didn’t look back just stared at the screen but, eventually he said “Nicky and Aaron understand German.”

 

Neil tried not to smile too hard when he signed up for the class. Unfortunately, Andrew’s schedule clashed and he had to settle for a different timing for the same class.

 

“We can still practice together,” Neil offered.

 

“Don’t want to have you trying to sit beside me in class anyway,” Andrew said and stomped off to turn on the TV.

 

\---

 

The next night wasn't any better. Neil couldn't sleep despite having ran a few extra miles to make up for the lack of practice. He briefly thought about just sleeping in another room from the start, but lost the fight with himself at the last second and crawled into bed after Andrew. However, this time his fidgeting was keeping Andrew awake too, so he moved to Nicky’s room again before it was even midnight.

 

He was back after a few hours of sleepless tossing and turning. Andrew didn't look like he’d slept either. He just rolled over with his back to Neil when he padded back in. Neil stood beside the bed, sheepishly, unable to understand how to make this work.

 

“This isn’t a horror movie. Get in,” Andrew grunted, and Neil gratefully crawled under the covers. It took a while, but they must have fallen asleep together at some point.

 

They slept in the next day, because when Neil woke up Andrew was already dressed and moving around getting ready, keys in hand.

 

“Bee?” Neil asked, trying to blink the fog of sleep from his eyes.

 

When Andrew nodded, he said, “Don’t tell Aaron I said hi,” to which he only received a scathing look.

 

He didn't feel like getting up just yet, but Andrew was about to leave and Neil felt like he was being cheated out of his time here. He stretched in bed and flung his arms out above him.

 

“Andrew, yes or no?” he asked just as Andrew was about to leave.

 

Andrew cocked his head back to look at him, hands on the door knob, and Neil lifted his chin in clear invitation.

 

There was a huff before Andrew walked back over to the bed and bent down over Neil till his face hovered right above Neil’s, who closed his eyes in anticipation, and then, “Go brush your teeth,” Andrew said, straightening back up.

 

Neil couldn't help the affronted noise he let out, eyes flying open, “That’s not fair-”

 

“Yes,” Andrew cut him off.

 

He bent down again and shut him up with a bruising kiss that went on far longer than Neil was expecting and had his toes curling, one hand in Andrew’s hair. When he pulled away, Neil tried to follow, but Andrew pushed him back down on the bed and repeated, “Go brush your teeth, Neil.”

 

Neil wondered if the smile he felt across his face looked anything like his father’s, it didn’t feel anything like it.

 

That night, surprisingly, Neil fell asleep by the time his head hit the pillow. He’d spent the day wandering around the house clearing up months of neglect, doing laundry and generally making the place slightly more habitable than a convenient bachelor pad used occasionally for crashing in.

 

He wasn't sure what woke him, but the sudden movement to his side had him reaching for a gun under his pillow that didn’t exist. There was another sharp jab to his shoulder, followed by a growled “Get away from me.”

 

“Andrew, it’s me.” Neil managed before moving out of the way of another fist lashing out in the dark. He wondered if this was a side effect of their to their talk yesterday or the session with Aaron and Betsy today.

 

“Andrew,” Neil repeated, not knowing what to do. But after a brief struggle with the comforter, Andrew was out of the bed and across the room. He switched the lights on, bathing the room in too bright light, making Neil’s eyes scrunch up, and stood there his back to the bed, chest heaving.

 

“I’ll go…” Neil croaked, his voice sleep heavy.

 

“No,” Andrew said, “I think I’ll… Nicky’s room.” And then he was gone.

 

Neil got up and turned off the light, then tried to fall back asleep and failed miserably.

 

He could hear a clock ticking somewhere, the absence of body beside him, of Andrew beside him, was like negative space that he was hyper aware of. The bed felt too big, too cold and every time he closed his eyes he felt like he was falling into a deep, deep dark ocean. Every room had been full before Andrew showed up, and now with him gone everything was empty and Neil didn’t know what used to go in the space before anymore.

 

Sighing, he got up and crept his way over to Nicky’s room. He knocked on the door and stuck his head in. Andrew was sitting up in bed with a battered paperback, he hadn't fallen asleep either.

 

“I can’t sleep,” Neil complained. Andrew twitched the covers beside him in invitation and Neil happily made his way over. By the end of the night, they’d almost figured out a way to make sure they could both sleep better.

 

On their sides, Andrew put one arm under Neil’s pillow and draped another arm over his middle. The weight of it gave Neil an anchor to keep him held down, a feeling of connectedness and belonging, even in sleep. For Andrew, holding onto something was a lot better than feeling like he was being held onto. It would be difficult to mistake someone you were holding onto for something you wanted far away.

 

At end of the week they’d almost managed an entire night in one bed, if not one sofa. Andrew forced Neil to marathon some sort of wildlife documentary. Neil wasn't completely sure why shark week was on the prescribed pop culture syllabus, but they ended up watching till late into the night. Eventually, Neil fell asleep, and Andrew, who he’d been leaning on, clearly fell asleep along with him, because when Neil woke up it was to the morning sun across his face. He was at a precarious angle, with only Andrew’s arms around his waist preventing him from falling to the ground. But it was whole night together without once disturbing the other, so Neil counted it as some sort of win. He grinned and waited for Andrew to wake of his own accord.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Mari**

 

The first time Amari remembered the numbness of months breaking was when she moved to London at the age of fifteen. She barely kept in contact with any of her ‘siblings’ and she didn’t accept a single phone call from Ichirou. The only person she spoke to was her sister Nanami Moriyama with whom she shared a loft apartment in a well secured area of Kensington.

 

Nanami was the only true Moriyama, Ichirou’s real blood sister. But she had been fostered with the Hatfords since youth. She only ever visited New York in the summers.

 

Out of the eight of them, Nanami was the only one who truly followed Exy religiously. Unlike her two brothers, she had the advantage of distance from the main house. Not to mention nothing but an advantageous marriage in her future, she had no legacy to fulfill. Where Riko’s entire life was Exy and Ichirou remained disinterested except to note the revenue Exy created for them, Nanami was free to play as much or as little Exy as she liked. And play she did.

 

She played for local community teams, captained her high school's and even managed to get into street Exy scrimmages when the gambling called for it. She’d had a place reserved for her on the Cambridge team’s roster since she was twelve. She even ran a small, but lucrative, betting pool at the local pub she bussed at once a week.

 

It was she who introduced, and finally convinced, Amari to play during the two years she was exiled to England.

 

To say Amari took to it immediately would be lying. Though it had the exact high stakes action that an adrenaline-fueled trained killer could appreciate, she didn’t fit in any of the positions. Nanami played defensive dealer and she rotated Amari through the positions during practice with her local team the minute she was declared physically fit again. Amari hadn’t even managed to find a good sparring partner in the area, before a racket was placed in her hands and a helmet shoved on her head.

 

Amari didn’t have the same advantages as other players like Nanami, such as training from a young age or even stature, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise when she couldn't get the hang of the game. However valiantly she tried, most of the time she ended up on the ground or smashed up against the plexiglass walls. Though Nanami insisted it was just what she needed to get back on her feet, Amari would much rather hide in the attic of their town house and practice throwing her knives. But this was part of a cover she was building for herself, and so they persevered. What she lacked in height, she made up for in speed, but she was no better as a striker or as a backliner. It was only one day when none of their goalies showed up and Amari was asked to cover that they figured out her position.

 

At first, keeper didn't really fit. The racket was too foreign and she felt clumsy and awkward with it. But during a lull in play when she was observing the stands when a ball came flying at her, she only saw it from the corner of the eye and batted it away on instinct.

 

It hit the other end of the court before anyone even blinked. Nanami and the rest of the team looked at her in shock.

 

“What kind of fluke was that?” said one of their backliners.

 

“Not a fluke,” Nanami grinned and then broke up their game by ordering everyone to line up and start taking shots at the goal Amari was in.

 

The first thing Lola ever taught her about throwing knives was how to catch them. Her methods were harsh and the cuts on Amari’s palms, long since scabbed and healed, attested to the fact. When the ball came flying at her it was instinct to knock it away. Sure, the area to cover was a lot larger than her own frame and she was still getting used to the racket, but she let in less goals than she stopped. From then on, Exy practice with Nanami became a lot more enjoyable and less about duty. And when there were balls being pelted at her, sweat dripping into her eyes, it was a lot harder to dwell on her lack of information about how Ichirou was doing back home.

 

Of course the Exy she played in England was nowhere near enough to get her a scholarship into an American university, nevermind a Class 1 Championship winning team like the Foxes. Not to mention it was too late, as the new line up had already been picked and decided long before Amari found out about her assignment. Still, her knowledge on the court had prepared her well for her cover at Palmetto.

 

It had been second nature to deal with injuries in her line of work, so it was only natural that she also applied for first aid and then EMT training during her stint at the the Community Center with Nanami. It was this which solidified her real cover.

 

Amari could only marvel at the good fortune or possibly Shime’s genius and meticulous planning, that allowed for details to line up so very perfectly. She realised Ichirou had been planning something like this since he had learned of Neil Josten’s existence. She almost couldn’t believe his foresight and at the same time wondered how she could expect anything less. (She had never once won a game of chess against Ichirou, unless he threw it on purpose when he wanted something from her.)

 

Amari spent her time in London recovering physically as well as mentally. She worked with Nanami and perfected her ability to go undercover for longer periods of time than she’d ever been required to do before. It was interesting as well as helpful ,for the most part, to constantly pretend to be someone else every few days. Nanami should have been a constant reminder of home. She even looked so much like Ichirou sometimes Amari would flinch.

 

But as it was, she and her various covers were a welcome distraction for Amari. Someone new who wouldn’t look at her with pity every second of every day, or in Ichirou’s case, disgust or disappointment.

 

Nanami was well acquainted with most of the Hatfords and their people, regularly invited to the main house for dinner, even. Mari purposely made herself scarce anytime there was a danger of meeting any of the main family. She hadn’t been warned away from them before coming here per say, neither by Kengo nor by his wife, but she knew well enough to make sure no one related to Mary Hatford caught a very good look at her. The blonde wig she wore out of the house was pretty helpful in this regard.

 

Still, it was inevitable that when her year and a half was up in London, Nanami would finally force her into an evening party at the Hatfords’.

 

Unlike the Moriyamas, the Hatfords were an old crime family, their house old and steeped in history. There was a  maze of portraits and parlours to get through before they reached a ballroom. Amari scrabbled for the cover of her different personalities and pretended like she hadn’t stared at every generation of Hatford in curiosity as they passed. She looked nothing like them and her heart slowed with her every step nearer to the party.

 

It wasn't difficult to blend into the background despite Nanami’s best efforts, effecting a solid stance and remaining two watchful steps behind her at all times gave her the perfect look f a bodyguard and nothing but a once-over from the majority of the people at the party. It helped that she'd dressed almost exclusively in leather and knife straps in contrast to Nanami’s shimmery blue dress. They looked like a regular young heiress and her armed guard.

 

“You’re no fun, big sister,” Nanami frowned as she picked up drinks for the two of them. Amari took a generous sip of her champagne before dumping the rest of it down a conveniently placed plant pot. Nanami moved easily through various guests, smiling and inspiring smiles as well as arched looks of concern similarly.

 

“So what’s this party for, again?” Amari asked, frowning at a group of important looking people who had just entered the hall.

 

“Oh, it’s the Head Boss’ birthday, don’t you know?”

 

Amari felt her heart drop below her navel.

 

“Who?” she heard herself ask faintly.

 

“You know who the boss is here dummy, it's Stuart Hatford.”

 

Amari stopped breathing.

 

“Although he is always asking me to call him Uncle Stuart but I can’t tell if it’s a power play or he’s just being an old man.” Nanami was talking but Amari’s ears were ringing with the sound of the door that had just closed behind an older couple entering the room.

 

“Uncle Stuart,” Amari heard herself say faintly, breath whooshing out of her in one go. It didn’t even sound like the question it was.

  
“Stop repeating everything I’m saying, what’s gotten into you?” Nanami grabbed her hand suddenly, “Come on, I’ll introduce you,” she said and began marching up to the group.

 

“I- what? Nana, no!” Amari’s scrabbling at the girl's grip on her was ineffectual at best, her heart jack rabbiting in her chest, her eyes locked onto a man that looked achingly similar to another she once knew.

 

“Uncle Stuart!” Nanami called, not caring for the dirty looks they were getting.

 

Stuart Hatford turned, his smile freezing on his face the second his eyes passed over Nanami and landed on Amari. He stilled even if his wife and others beside him didn’t notice. Amari watched him watch her and didn't look away until she heard Nanami say, “Happy Birthday, Uncle Stuart, I can’t believe how long it’s taken me to introduce my sister to you. This is Amari Moriyama, Ichirou’s fiancee.”

 

Amari felt chilled at those words and struggled to not let it show on her face. Her training took over and she gave a customary bow forward, lowering her head and breaking eye contact.

 

“An honour sir.”

 

“Sir? I don’t think anyone called Stuart ‘Sir’ in a very long time, dear.” Margaret his wife said airily.

 

Amari glaced at Stuart Hatford and he looked ready to finally break his silence. Suddenly she felt the eyes of everyone in the ballroom on them, trust Nanami to make a scene. Two Moriyama blades speaking to the head of the Hatford house. There was no way this was happening, she needed to control the situation, contain it. There was no way she was letting everyone in this room learn of her Hatford heritage. She gripped Nanami’s hand hard in warning before letting go. She couldn't help but desperately plead, ‘don’t say anything, don’t say it’ the second her eyes locked back with Stuart. Out loud she said, “The Master would have me relay a message to you, Sir.”

 

Stuart’s eyes flickered around the room assessing the same danger she had and then he inclined his head, “Follow me to my office, you can tell me there.”

 

To his wife, who looked ready to protest, he said “The cake can wait another while or so, can’t it?”

 

He moved to leave, an enforcer detaching from the group to follow him, eyeing her warily when she moved after them on lead feet. Nanami gave her a concerned look, but Amari just shook her head and followed Stuart out.

 

The enforcer, who was large and bald, protested heavily when Stuart insisted that he see Amari in his study alone, but seemed to settle when Amari summarily stripped herself of all her weapons, creating a small pile by the door. He even seemed suitably impressed when she pulled out the metal jeweled dragonfly securing the bottom of her long braid, pressed a button on its back releasing its blade-like wings and dropped it on top of the pile.

 

The door closed behind them and her breath stuttered. Her fingertips went numb and sweat broke out on her hairline. Terror, irrational and all encompassing like a vice, gripped her heart. This would be the first time in her life she willingly disobeyed Kengo Moriyama, the first time she went against Moriyama interests, the first rebellion of many.

 

She stood with her back against the heavy oak door and watched Stuart go sit behind his large desk. He poured himself scotch from a decanter and studied her over the rim of his glass.

 

“Now, tell me, Amari Moriyama. Why do you look exactly like my nephew?” he asked.

 

Amari stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, as if she would break apart if she didn't hold it all together physically. She didn’t know where to begin and she didn't know how much she could ask or how much he knew.

 

A strange part of her, a very detached part, wondered if Stuart had seen Nathaniel Wesninski recently. Was he here in London? Was Mary? Did Amari want them to be? Would Mary help her or would she reject her? Did Stuart have a picture?

 

She looked at Stuart and felt her breath jerk again because he looked so much like Abram, just thirty years older. She felt like she was a little girl again. His hair was a little darker and shot through with white and his beard neater; there was no blood in his hairline, but he had the same grey eyes and the same laugh lines around his mouth.

 

The words were out of her mouth before she could swallow them back in, “Uncle Stuart…”

 

His eyes widened at her outburst. Amari clenched her fists, arms tightening around her middle and took a steadying breath.

 

“Uncle Stuart,” she repeated, more confident this time, “I know you have no reason to trust me. I’ve never met your sister, but I have met your brother. You have to help me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew Im hoping to keep chapter length under 10k per chapter but in this economy who knows! This is mostly inspired by some of the extra content from Nora i wanted to give the boys a break before everything gets going :P
> 
> Please comment if you liked or leave constructive critique, it would be much appreciated! 
> 
> Or come say hi on [tumblr!](http)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari receives some keys.
> 
> Neil wants too much.
> 
> Our principals meet and there is too much broken glass for comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaah I can't believe this chapter is finished!
> 
> Mucho gracias once again to [Lowen](http://zimbitsgarbage.tumblr.com/) for listening, and to [Nene,](http://inthecompanyofbooks.tumblr.com/) [Sy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/syrenhug/pseuds/syrenhug) and Keefa for the beta!!
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter include; self harm, mention of past sexual abuse, depression and dissociation. basically the whole thanksgiving debacle from the books. Let me know if I should mention anything else.
> 
> Music: [“Thousand Eyes”](https://open.spotify.com/track/2ulUHKORKH5Dfjg6CIFMLH) by Monsters and Men
> 
> [“Begging” ](https://open.spotify.com/track/2uudsWgb9cF0EjvOTlNWTm) by Dua Lipa

  **Mari**

 

Airports were at once the most interesting and dangerous places. Mari of course had eliminated a lot of the danger to herself by having any incriminating pieces of luggage transported ahead of time. They awaited her in an apartment just a few minutes walk from the Palmetto Campus, quietly rented out under a distantly related subsidiary of the Moriyama company. The two suitcases that she had just pulled off the baggage conveyor belt only contained anything a normal international student would need.

 

She twisted her newly bleached hair around a finger and bounced up and down on her toes, feeling bereft without the height her usual steel toed shoes gave her. Somehow studded leather boots with hidden sheaths for knives didn’t exactly fit Marika Hamil’s style. And crack skulls, her new soft and practical plimsolls could not. She wore a baby pink cardigan and a floral skirt which she picked at, constantly feeling oddly disarmed in the simple get up. The only weapon on her person were her hairclips and ornamental dragonfly clasp.

 

She glanced around her as if taking everything in for the first time and stood with her back to a pillar searching around with wide eyes and pushing her glasses up on her nose.

 

It wasn’t long before a large man was approaching her, his arms thicker than her head and wrapped in tattoos. Mari felt her guard go up automatically.

 

“You must be Marika?” He held out his hand. Mari only remembered to change the angle of her hand and grip to a much softer one at the last second.

 

“I- yes, that’s me. Hello.” At least she didn’t have to think about her pronunciation. She was so used to putting on the British accent it came almost naturally.

 

The man walked with the same gait as her sensei and she suspected a broken hip. Still his impressive muscles and grim visage spoke of a man who could handle himself in a fight. He wouldn't be easy to take down, but, she could do it, if the need arose. She pulled her hand away quickly to give the illusion of nervousness and shrunk in on herself a little. It wouldn't do to let herself get caught sizing up an opponent instead of presenting her chosen character.

 

“David Wymack, the team’s coach, and this is Kevin.”

 

Too late, she noticed the young man brooding behind the Foxes coach. Kevin Day had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in days. His stare was empty. He looked through Mari and she barely stopped the full body flinch.

 

Is this what a number two looked like after the death of their principal? Was this all Mari had to look forward to in her future? Kevin looked dire enough that the wide eyed berth she gave him wasn’t exactly out of character. He barely shrugged at her and then stared away.

 

“Don’t mind Kevin, he’ll be a bit more human once the season starts.” Wymack told her moving forward to grab one of her bags. Mari couldn’t stop the recoil this time.

 

She hadn’t flinched away from a man since the age of eleven, not five minutes into the role of Marika and she was already a different person. This assignment was too deep and too long and she was already afraid she was losing herself and her convictions. She cursed Ichirou to hell and back for forcing this job on her.

 

David Wymack paused and stared at her, she looked away quickly but she’d seen his eyes softening in pity and understanding.

 

It annoyed her, anger flaring up in her gut like a serpent ready to strike. She didn't need pity. She averted her eyes. On second thought pity was exactly what she needed from the Foxes coach, pity would make her less of a threat. You couldn't be suspicious of a pitiful, naive girl.

 

“Ah- thank you, sir.” she fumbled to grab her smaller carry on.

 

“You can just call me Coach… or David,” Wymack said gently, “Kevin can get your other bag.”

 

She made a grab for it, as well, but Kevin picked it up and started walking out.

 

The two men were tall, and Mari wasn’t used to following behind. Her job was always to be in front, on the lookout for danger. She stumbled along behind them.

 

“T-thank you, for picking me up, Coach,” She managed, testing out the name.

 

David looked back at her. “Don’t worry about it, kid, Abby usually takes such good care of all my strays, it’s about time I returned the favour.”

 

“Strays?” Mari asked, tilting her head to the side as they stepped out of the automatic door into the South Carolina summer heat.

 

“Not to say you’re a stray,” David stumbled over his words. “I just meant - you’re practically her family here and Abby is very important to me - I mean us all…. So...” He trailed off as they approached his red beat up truck.

 

Kevin snorted  from where he was putting her bags in the trunk.

 

“Ah, shut up.” David grouched at Kevin, “Don’t think I haven’t heard your late night calls to Thea.”

 

Kevin looked affronted as he got into the back seat, the expression actually bringing his dead eyed stare some life. He didn’t argue though, possibly want to avoid giving David the chance to expand on what he may or may not have heard.

 

The ribbing was a surprisingly pleasant distraction from her anxiety and Mari couldn’t help but compare it to the kind of teasing she shared with her siblings. She missed them with a pang.

 

But David Wymack was Kevin's father, she wondered at their relationship. A fact the world and he had only learned recently. It wasn't strained or too awkward. Sure Kevin looked to be suffering under some great misery but for a newly revealed familial relationship, there was a surprising lack of animosity here. For a second she thought about a life where her job wasn't dealing in lies. Then Mari told herself to stop daydreaming.

 

David indicated she should get in the front with him and she did so carefully.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to offend,” he continued, “I just meant, you may have noticed that the Foxes take on people who need more than your average scholarship.”

 

“I read a lot of articles.” Mari admitted, putting on her seat belt and staring at her hands.

 

“And they didn’t make you change your mind about accepting the offer?” David started the car but didn't look like he was going to be moving it.

 

Mari looked up at his questioning gaze and swallowed, “You take athletes who need second chances,” Mari said. In the back seat Kevin was silent, “You give people second chances. And this is my only chance to get away- this is my only chance.”

 

“I give people as many chances as they deserve. Abby thinks you deserve this, so I believe her,” David told her and then pulled the car out of park.

 

Mari swallowed the sudden lump that appeared in her throat and didn’t reply.

 

Over the course of the short ride they spoke of lighter things. He asked how she was finding America and she exclaimed in wonder at any and all differences about the roads and city from England.

 

“Everything is so.... Big.” she told them still affecting her wide eyed expression, that had most people eating out her hands within minutes. While Kevin seemed disinterested in everything David was a lot more susceptible.

 

He grinned, “If I had a nickle for every Brit I’d heard saying that.” he reached out to ruffle the top of Mari’s head without thought. Only to pause halfway into the action, staring at her in alarm and withdrawing his hand.

 

Amari would have twisted and broken his hand, but Mari allowed it, only ducked her head and smiled as if pleased.

 

Kevin refused to leave the car when they reached Abby’s house and so David and Mari went up the the door together. She stared back at Kevin apprehensively.

 

“Don’t let Kevin’s prickly nature scare you off, you’ll need all your grit to deal with the rest of the team,” David told her.

 

“I can’t speak for any of the new freshmen but my team will be good to you if you are good to them. They just take some getting used to.”

 

“Don’t worry Coach, I can handle them.” she told him sweetly.

 

Then Abigail Winfield opened the door. She exclaimed in pleasure and engulfed Mari in a hug she wasn’t expecting but didn’t feel the need to flinch out of.

 

“Marika! It’s so good to finally meet you!”  She ushered them inside happily and then glanced out at the car.

 

“Still refusing to budge is he?” She asked David who shrugged.

 

“Guess we better get to the courthouse before his highness blows a gasket,” he said, turning to leave before he had even entered the house fully.

 

“I’ll leave you with Abby, I bet that jet lag is ready to catch up kiddo.”

 

“I’ll catch up with you once I have Marika settled,” Abby told him at the door.

 

He must have noticed the stiff terror in the set of Mari’s shoulders but he said nothing more, leaving after a prolonged moment of eye contact with Abby.

 

The silence went on a little too long when the door shut after him, Mari felt her hackles rising alone with Abby Winfield for the first time knowing she was supposed to spend the rest of the year in the woman's company.

 

Finally she looked up at her and opened her mouth.

 

“Oh look at you, you look exhausted poor thing,” Abby cut her off, holding Mari at arms length by her shoulders  and giving her a thorough appraisal. It was a welcoming look but still held that keen observation of a medical professional.

 

Abby wasn't a tall woman, her face lined with worry lines and laughter lines alike. She was soft enough to dissipate a normal person's worries and kind enough to keep Amari on edge.

 

“Ma’am thank you so much for all of this, for letting me stay here, for the job, I don't know what I would have done - ” Marika had needed this desperately and was desperate in her show of gratitude.

 

Abby cut her off again, letting go of her shoulder. “You call Anna ‘Aunt’, don’t you?”

 

Mari nodded.

 

“Well, then since she's my cousin I should be Aunt Abby don’t you think?” She asked.

 

Alarms went off in Mari’s head. Calling Abby family would be forming too close a relationship with her marks. A regular undercover operation required detachment from the people you were deceiving, emotional connections were tantamount to shooting yourself in the foot, but then, there was nothing regular about her current mission. What harm could this do is comparison to the rest?

 

“I think...” Mari started. She forced herself to smile shyly. “I think that would be lovely Aunt Abby.”

 

Abby beamed.

 

“Of course I want to you feel at home, Marika, don’t feel shy about asking for anything, this is your home.”

 

“Thank you,” Mari said and then blurted out, “You can call me Mari.”

 

“Mari, then.” Abby was only too pleased.

 

Mari cursed her own stupid mouth that worked before she had finished thinking. She might as well have burned all her notes on undercover work if she was going to go this far.

 

Abby took her on a tour of the house then, happily chatting at her about her college classes, about what a help she would be considering the larger number of foxes this year and a little about the team. Mari replied enthusiastically to what she could, Abby wanted to be kind to her and she wanted Mari to be happy so that’s what Mari did.

 

“Lord knows we need some more girls around here, we’ve been far too outnumbered for too long, and those silly boys always getting into- into scraps.” here she faltered her brow creasing.

  
Mari figured she was thinking about Aaron Minyard’s trial which was happening today, but as she wasn’t supposed to know such details she just waited for Abby to recover.

 

The house was a three bedroom bungalow. Abby helped Mari move her suitcases to one of the guest bedrooms with a desk and two twins beds. One was made up for her and the other against the wall stacked with boxes and bags.

 

“I let some of the team crash here during the summer,” Abby explained letting her glance into the other room which was set up similarly to her just more lived in. Mari hadn’t been told the exact locations of her marks before she’d boarded the plane at Heathrow but suddenly the reality of how close she would be hit her.

 

She tamped down on the creeping fingers of dread crawling up her spine and tried to pay attention to Abby.

 

“Anna said you’d prefer to get a bike, not much for cars are you over there?”

 

“Learning to drive isn’t really big city practice, I never really needed to learn.” Mari explained good naturedly. It was pretty much the truth if you substituted London for New York. Even if she had technically been driving by the age of fifteen.

 

Abby told her of a place she could get a bike and they made plans for Mari to pick it up the next day. She was heading out soon so she left Mari to her own devices for a while as she got settled into her new room.

 

Except for the time she spent in London, Mari had never lived anywhere else but Moriyama Tower in New York. There was another exception, but Mari didn't want to think about it, the impersonal room with the twin beds was an eerie enough reminder as it was.

 

In London she had her own room across the hall from Nanami’s, at Moriyama Tower she had a suite in the same hallway as Ichirou’s set of rooms, all her siblings lived in rooms next to hers. Before that, they had all shared a large nursery together.

 

Her rooms back home were large and expansive, she had the clothes that she wanted, she had space to practice her knife throwing and large windows that overlooked the New York skyline. Here the room was small, the walls painted a cheerful blue. This room was her home now or at least for the next year, if everything went according to plan. It was an odd feeling to stare down at the cream duvet and imagine waking and sleeping here.

 

It was odder still when Abby knocked at her door before leaving, she presented Mari with a set of keys, the front and back doors and keys to get into the Foxhole court. Mari thanked her and looked down at the keys in her hand. The last time she needed keys to get in anywhere had been the exception. Moriyama tower had live security that knew her face at all times. They used codes and the chip in her arm for access to their apartments. The concept of keys entrusted to her when all Abby knew about her was what her cousin Anna Winfield had told her on the phone was disturbing. How could she trust Mari just like that? Mari had strangled people in their sleep, who gave their house keys to someone like that.

 

But Abby didn’t know that and what Abby didn't know ought not to hurt her.

 

She didn’t unpack much, just pulled out a framed photograph of Nanami and herself, that had been taken one summer when she was about thirteen. The two of them had stood somber staring at the camera, Ichirou had stood with hand on Mari’s shoulder but he had been cropped out. Anna Winfield only knew that Marika Hamill had a younger half sister and so Mari placed the frame on her desk. She stared at it for a while trying to clear her mind of worries.

 

Despite trying her best not to worry, she hadn’t gotten much sleep over the last few weeks since learning about her mission. David’s excuse of jet lag was as good as any she took off her glasses and she slipped into bed.

 

She was here now. There was no going back, so she might as well see this through to the end.

  


* * *

 

 

**Neil**

 

The day of the trial was sunny. Neil woke up with a start and braced for his jolt to consciousness to wake Andrew up as well. But there was no movement from behind him.

 

Usually Neil tried not to wake up first, and on the rare occasion that he did, he was trained enough now to keep as still as possible until Andrew woke as well.

 

They had finally pushed the bed up against the wall a few days ago, so that Andrew could sleep with the wall at his back and the door in his sight. He didn't say it but they both knew it would just be easier this way.

 

Neil twisted around to see that Andrew was already awake, the comforter wrapped around him so only his eyes showed. He stared past Neil, his eyes vacant.

 

“Hi,” Neil said quietly.

 

Andrew didn’t respond.

 

Neil got up, brushed his teeth and went out for his morning run. The sky was blue and not a cloud lingered on the horizon. When he got back, Andrew still hadn’t moved from his spot in bed and Neil wasn’t really sure what to make of it. Not being able to take his cues from Andrew told him just how much he relied on his observation of Andrew’s mood to gauge how to behave.

 

He made a simple breakfast of eggs and when the smell of coffee didn’t bring Andrew down, he brought a mug up to him.

 

“Nicky texted to say he’ll be here by ten.” he told Andrew, who gave no indication that he had heard.

 

Neil went out to the corridor and considered what to do.

 

Andrew had seemed fine the last few days, he was attending his weekly session with Betsy and Aaron. Neil could admit he’d tried his best not to think about the day ahead, that he was apprehensive about having to explain to a room full of strangers the horrific events of last thanksgiving.

 

It was the day of Aaron’s trial and Andrew didn’t want to get out of bed.

 

Neil was reluctant to ask Andrew to get up, he didn’t want Andrew in the witness stand anymore than he wanted to get in himself. He felt just as distraught thinking about the consequences of the two of them not showing up, not because of what it would mean for Aaron, but what it could for Andrew and his promises.

 

Their bags had been packed last night, so Neil went down to the kitchen and sat tapping out an anxious rhythm on the countertop. In the end, it wasn’t his decision to make. Andrew would either get up or he wouldn’t.

 

By the time Nicky, followed at a more sedate pace by Aaron, finally flounced into the house, Neil heard the tell-tale sound of water from the upstairs toilet.

 

Nicky came in talking a mile a minute about his flight, about how wonderful Germany had been, how much he already missed Erik and how he had brought presents. He made a beeline for Neil who let himself be hugged, even reciprocating a bit because Nicky’s presence, loud and frantic, was a distraction from his own spiralling thoughts. Nicky’s tone was light and airy but the grip he held on with spoke volumes about how distraught he was feeling. Aaron grumbled under his breath, towing their bags into their rooms.

 

He came out and sat on the kitchen counter, taking up Neil fidgeting while Nicky dug out the bag with Neil and Andrew’s presents and talked at length about the great deal he’d gotten for the car rental from the airport. Aaron was dressed in slacks, a smart shirt and even a tie hanging loose around his neck, his hands were shaking. He grabbed onto an errant mug from the counter and didn’t make eye contact with either of them.

 

“Who cleaned up _this_ place?” Nicky exclaimed twisting around just as Andrew appeared at the door, empty coffee mug in hand. He wore all black, the sleeves of his hoodie hanging over his hands. He looked young and pale and entirely too small in the get up, his hair barely holding any semblance of order. Neil wanted to stuff him in the Maserati and drive away from South Carolina as fast as he possibly could.

 

“Andrew, there you are sleepy head!” Nicky didn’t attempt a hug, but Neil saw the aborted twitch he made towards his cousin, the hands that fluttered in front of him for a split second. Then, he turned and pulled out matching gift bags.

 

“I brought you presents,” he offered the bags to Andrew who didn't reply but took the offering. He set the mug aside, pulled sunglasses out of his bag and promptly put them on.

 

Neil looked into his own to find a matching pair. He was sure they were branded but he wasn’t bothered to check. He was distracted watching Nicky’s lower lip tremble as he looked at Andrew.

 

Waterworks wouldn’t help the strange mood Andrew was in. But, thankfully, Nicky only sniffed a little before he tilted his head at Andrew.

 

“Andrew Joseph Minyard do not tell me this is what you are wearing.”

 

Neil was jolted out of his staring, “What do you mean?”

 

Nicky pointed an accusing finger at him, “And you mister? A T-shirt to court? There’s a dress code you know. Didn’t the lawyer tell you?” his voice trembled on the word ‘court,’ but he pushed on nonetheless.

 

“I didn’t know we had to.” Neil answered looking to Andrew for input, but he was ignoring them all in favour of making himself more coffee and dumping what amounted to about six spoonfuls of sugar into his mug, glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose

 

“Thankfully, your best friend Nicky has got you covered,” he said pulling out another bag and moving with purpose towards Neil, who wasn’t sure he wanted Nicky anywhere near him.

 

“I even got you guys ties. We can at least _pretend_ to be respectable, they don’t put respectable people who wear ties in jail-” he was cut off by the mug in Aaron’s hands crashing to the floor.

 

There was silence in the kitchen. The sun came barging in, too bright for the dour mood that had settled over them.

 

“I- I, that’s _not_ what I meant.” Nicky scrambled, looking between the three of them rapidly. He wavered between the shirt in his hands and the pieces of ceramic on the floor.

 

Andrew put his coffee down, took off his sunglasses and looked at Aaron, “You are not going to jail,” he said finally.

 

“You don’t know that.” Aaron pointed out with a stubborn tilt of his chin.

 

The two of them glared, maintaining intense eye contact.

 

Neil and Nicky stood silent, as if holding their breath. Aaron’s worry grew rapidly more evident on his face in the strain of his jaw, in the furrow of his eyes. In contrast, the more panicky Aaron grew the calmer Andrew appeared in response. He grew back into his usual stance, the swoop of relief in Neil stomach attested to the fact. He shoulders squared and he stood feet apart.

 

“You are not going to jail,” Andrew repeated.

 

And that appeared to be the end of the brothers conversation.

 

Aaron went out to the pantry for a broom and Andrew turned away to stare vacantly out the window at the bright blue sky. But he was still Andrew, he was still there. He wasn’t looking at anyone, but he was still there. Neil didn’t realise how disarming his glassy eyed look of the morning had been until he came back to himself.

 

After some more trembling, Nicky seemed to gather himself and came at Neil with the dress shirt. He left out another brand new package for Andrew, except his shirt was black.

 

And while Andrew point blank refused to let Nicky anywhere near him with a tie, both Neil and Aaron silently suffered as he went about tieing it too tight for either of them and fluttering around chatting inanely until the pressure in the room had settled.

 

The ride to courthouse wasn’t long, but they took two cars anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Betsy met them on the steps of the Columbia Municipal Courthouse. She greeted them warmly, but kept her distance. Her presence had a calming effect on them and Nicky looked ready to run in for a hug, barely keeping himself in check.

 

She moved off to the side with Andrew, talking to him in a low voice, while Waterhouse approached the rest of them.

 

Neil ignored him for the most part, he’s been over exactly what he was supposed to say already. He bit his lip and stared after Andrew, wondering what Betsy was saying to him. He hoped she didn’t tell Andrew anything about him.

 

In a fit of discomposure, Neil had called the psychiatrist two days previously. He’d found the number on Andrew’s phone while he was in the shower and dialled before he could let himself think about it.

 

He just wanted to ask her to come to the trial, for Andrew’s sake. Whatever misgivings Neil had about her and her profession, she helped Andrew, he couldn't deny it. All day Nicky had been calling to confirm who was or wasn’t allowed to attend, and with Andrew choosing to pretend like he couldn't hear the phone Neil had been left to field calls from Foxes to let them know that no, they couldn't come.

 

He’d finally spoken to her of his own volition only to find out that she was already planning to be there, to give her own testimony. He felt hot and stupid and hadn’t known what to say.

 

“I’m glad to see how much you care for him, Neil.” Betsy had said in a knowing voice and Neil had quickly said goodbye and hung up. His insides felt sticky with discomfort at the thought of Andrew finding out.

 

Like this morning, Neil was helpless. He didn’t care how Aaron dealt with this, but he wanted to ease the way for Andrew however he could. He had told Nicky it wasn’t his fault what had happened at his parents house, but a part of Neil knew if it hadn’t been for _him,_ Andrew never would have agreed.

 

Before long, they were inside. Neil watched as if from someone else’s eyes as Luther and Maria walked in. They didn’t meet Neil’s stare, looking down the entire time. Nicky sniffed from beside him.

 

Aaron and Andrew sat on the bench in front with Waterhouse and their other lawyer beside them, while Neil and Nicky shared the seat behind them with Betsy. There was a woman sitting, dabbing at her eyes on the other end of the row of seats. He only realised the significance of who she was when he saw Andrew’s back go rigid. He turned to observe Cass Spear. She was red-eyed and didn’t look at Andrew, even when his entire attention seemed to be occupied by her shaking shoulders, even when the judge walked in and the trial began.

 

Neil sat on his hands. He stared at the back of Andrew’s head and made himself feel nothing. He knew this was going to be nothing short of harrowing, but still the fractured mass of words that washed over him for the next few hours made bile rise in his throat and white hot fury flash through his gut alternatively.

 

Everything blurred together, pieces sticking out in his mind like the jagged edges of the mug Aaron had broken that morning. The cross examination by the lawyers was brutal, their questions sharp points of contention.

 

_“Mr. Hemmick, did you invite your son and nephews to you house under false pretences.”_

 

_“Why did you bring the racket inside Mr. Josten?”_

 

_“Mr. Minyard, was this the first time Drake Spear forced himself on you.”_

 

_“Yes or No: your nephew told you about his abuse by Drake Spear?”_

 

_“So, you admit that you got caught stealing on purpose? To have the state remove you from the Spears care?”_

 

_“Why?”_

 

Neil saw Aaron go very still. Andrew’s gaze locked on to a point at the back of the room, his eyes dark as coals before he answered. He quoted Drake word for word in a bored voice, but his fists trembled at his sides.

 

There was a low keening sound from Cass Spear at the other end of the room and Neil swallowed thinking this was better than she deserved, savagely.

 

* * *

 

When Andrew left the stand, he didn’t retake his seat. Instead, he shuffled over to sit beside Neil. There was enough space between them that they didn’t touch anywhere. Neil sat up straight for a second, surprised, and pleasantly so, until he realised that this position put Andrew as far as possible from Aaron and an openly sobbing Nicky. It didn't deter Neil, though he wished it was this easy to shield Andrew from everything that could hurt him all the time. But Andrew himself was the biggest obstacle to that venture.

 

Neil was no longer surprised with the vehemence of his own protective streak for Andrew. It was a truth, like sunrise, like death. Like someone called Neil Josten who really truly existed as did his desire to protect Andrew Minyard.

 

It was frustrating when everything to protect Andrew from already existed inside his own mind.

 

He met Aaron’s eyes as he stood in the stand. In that instance, despite their personal issues, they were in agreement.

 

“Yes.” Aaron answered the lawyer. And Neil knew he meant ‘I would do it again’.

 

* * *

 

 

Aaron was charged with non-criminal homicide and sentenced community service. It was a slap on the wrist compared to the charges that Waterhouse and Jaskowiak had brought against Luther. Nicky had flinched when they had sprung the accusation, but he hadn’t wavered.

 

The fine for failing to report child abuse in South Carolina was hefty and was the threat of a felony upon any further infraction that rested over the Minister's head.

 

“When did we even hire Jaskowiak?” Nicky asked as wiping his sleeve over his eyes as they filed out of the courtroom, “He was miles ahead of Waterhouse.”

 

“Waterhouse said he volunteered to help out pro-bono.” Aaron sounded dazed. Neil kept his eyes down and didn’t say anything. He didn’t think about the chunk of stolen Moriyama money he’d liquidated a month ago.

 

Kevin, Wymack and Abby stood waiting for them. Neil was surprised at their presence, but Nicky ran past him to fling himself into Abby’s arms, breaking out into a fresh round of tears so Neil couldn't begrudge him the comfort. He hung back to watch the rest greet each other,  the two lawyers moved past him with Betsy and looked to be updating Wymack on the situation. Jaskowiak nodded at Neil as he passed, but Neil pretended not to see him.

 

A car door opened and Aaron broke away from Abby’s embrace to fling himself at Katelyn, who had just stepped out of her practical little beetle.

 

With a lurch, Neil spun around, searching for Andrew who had been behind him.

 

He found him standing at the building's entrance across from Cass Spear and felt his stomach turn to lead. Andrew was silent, still as stone, his right arm clutching his left wrist. Neil knew Andrew had left his armbands in the car. Neil took an abortive step towards them, anger flaring in him, immediate and all consuming. He wished he’d brought Andrew’s armbands with him, and the knives inside them.

 

Cass held something out towards Andrew and he took it, automatically letting go of his arm. She made as if to hug him and then jerked back tripping over herself. Neil was moving before he was aware of it. Fists clenched, taste of blood in his mouth, but Cass was already backing away. He could only see the side of Andrew's face, his expression was unreadable. There was something lost about it as he clutched the box she gave him.

 

When he turned to Neil, it changed. His face cleared, his eyes went blank, but Neil had seen the brief flash of softness and it only made him madder. Andrew stood on the steps of the building inside which he had laid open his life for strangers and friends alike. His skin, his secrets, flayed alive in front of hungry eyes that didn’t deserve to know his truth. He stood with steel in his spine, defiance in his eyes. Neil forgot how to breathe.

 

“What.” Andrew said, but he didn’t wait for an answer and started walking to the parking lot, ignoring Abby and Kevin who tried to speak to him. Neil was helpless but to follow.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Leaving.”

 

“Can I come with you? Or do you want me to stay?” Neil asked hoping he would say yes and already scared he would say no.

 

“I don’t care.” Andrew said and threw the box roughly in the back of the car before getting in. His face was impassive and he wouldn't meet Neil’s eyes.

 

He started the car but didn’t move, revving the engine aggressively until Neil took it for the invitation it was and got in the passenger seat.

 

* * *

 

 

Andrew drove fast, so fast they made it to Palmetto in just over an hour.

 

Neil sat quietly beside him in the passenger seat, texting Nicky and Wymack back to let them know he was with Andrew. His grip on his phone white-knuckled as Andrew took another turn too fast with a recklessness that belied the icy calm on his features.

 

They didn’t speak.

 

Neil wasn’t sure what was left to say.

 

So it took him by surprise when Andrew pulled up into the empty parking lot of the Foxhole Court and turned the car off. He sat there both hands on the wheel, looking out at the glaring orange and white expanse that made up the outside of the stadium. There was a sudden silence in the car with the engine off. With a pang, Neil realised just how much he’d missed it even if he had been away for just over a week.

 

It was jarring to discover how accustomed he had become to constant access to the court. Never had a building been so important or so easy to return to.

 

“Well.”

 

“What?” Neil felt like he’d missed a step going downstair.

 

“I brought the junkie to his fix, aren't you going to get it?” Andrew’s tone was cold.

 

“I don’t need to practice right now.”

 

“Don’t you?”

 

Neil studied him, Andrew wouldn't look at him, but he wasn’t the vacant shell of this morning. There was something brimming just beneath the surface and Neil didn't know what.

 

“Andrew, I don’t need anything right now,” Neil told him clearly. “What do you want?”

 

“Nothing.” Andrew replied reflexively and then snorted, his expression dark warning Neil not to say a word.

 

Neil opened his mouth ready to reply, but stopped when Andrew pointed a finger at him.

 

“Don’t.”

 

He got out and slammed the door behind him. Neil saw him pulling out a cigarette. He rested against the car, his back to Neil.

 

Neil sat in the silence for a minute, trying to figure out what had just happened. Trying to figure out his own feelings. He was angry. He was beyond angry, he was furious, the rage just boiling beneath the surface. He knew it had been clear on his face when Andrew had turned away from Cass, he knew it had been there on his face when Andrew left the stand and sat beside him.

 

He got out of the car and rounded in front to reach Andrew. He tried to steal the cigarette from between Andrew’s fingers, but he pulled away before Neil could get a grip.

 

Neil watched him, the smoke curling out of his mouth and rising in the evening air. His face was blank, his shoulders at ease, in contrast to the very real fury that was igniting Neil’s bones.

 

“Stop it.”

 

“Stop what.” Neil let it bleed into his voice, “Stop feeling?”

  
He snatched the cigarette out of Andrew hands faster than he anticipated this time and threw it to the ground. “Stop being angry about today? Stop being mad at the people who did this?”

 

“There is no point in being angry.” Andrew said.

 

He knew Andrew thought the injustices committed against him were inconsequential, he knew this, but it didn't stop him from hating them all the same. Hating the way Cass Spear had looked at him with pity and fear. The way Luther had looked away when Andrew spoke at the stand. The way the man whose skull he wanted to bash in again and again was already six feet beneath the ground.

 

There was nothing Neil could do and there was nothing Andrew wanted.

 

He was fine. Cool as you please and Neil’s insides were on fire.

 

“It doesn't matter if there's a point,” he burst out, “it doesn't matter, aren’t you _angry_?”

 

Andrew gave him an unimpressed look.

 

Neil was breathing hard. He knew it was pointless. He had been there and he had seen it all with his own eyes, so then why did he want this from Andrew. Why did he want something he knew he shouldn’t. The reason was there, lingering just out of sight.

 

“Stop it. I told you, I’m not your answer,” Andrew said.

 

“I know that.” Neil turned his face away, unable to stomach the blankness.

 

“You can’t fix me.”

 

“I know that! I’m not trying to.”  something about the emotionless facade was breaking pieces inside Neil. Andrew was the first thing he had learned to lean on, the solid wall at his back that didn't give way.

 

And now, he was unmoored. So utterly adrift he was lost in a sea of his own mind and Neil couldn’t reach him.

 

“I told you before, you can’t put a leash on me.”

 

“You are not my answer. And I’m not yours.” Neil told him, repeating the words Andrew had said to him, “But I’m here anyway.”  

 

Andrew didn't respond, he didn’t meet Neil’s eyes.

 

“You don’t have to pretend you feel nothing Andrew.” Neil tried again, turning to rest against the car beside Andrew, “not in front of me.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Don’t lie to me. You never have, don’t start now.” Neil’s voice was sharp.

 

Andrew didn’t react.

 

“I saw you, I saw your face when she was talking, don’t tell me-” and there, there it was. The crack in his armour. Neil knew he was poking a sleeping lion, he knew he was crossing dangerous territory. The one topic Andrew had only ever shared with _Neil_ willingly before today.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re not angry she thought she had any right to speak to you, like everything was still the same. You deserve better than that.”

 

“I deserve anything from her. I got her son killed.”

 

“Stop that!” Neil was shouting. He knew he was shouting. His hands, balled at his side, shook. “You didn't do anything, this isn’t on you.”

 

Andrew turned away from him.

 

“She doesn’t deserve you defending her.” Neil told his back. “She doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.”

 

“And your mother does?” Andrew spoke, voice still bare of inflection, but the mere fact that he was replying meant that Neil was getting somewhere. That he wouldn’t face Neil meant that he was afraid of what Neil would see.

 

“This isn’t about me.”

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

“I wish I could give you a percentage for how much I hate you.” Neil said meaning something else entirely.

 

“The fact remains, you have too many issues. Stop projecting.”

 

Words games were Andrew’s playground and Neil pulled at his own hair in frustration.

 

“What do you want, Neil?” Andrew turned around, his eyes were bare and dark.

 

“I don’t know. I just want you to stop blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault.”

 

“Because you’re so good at that.” and here, finally, Andrews tone was mocking. The edge of anger and violence behind his words.

 

“Ugh! I want to punch you right now!” Neil rounded on Andrew, all frustration and untamed emotions.

 

“As if you know how to throw a punch.”

 

Not since his first few weeks at the Foxhole Court had Neil felt such anger towards Andrew, every bitter feeling rose up in him at once. Every fear that maybe this really was nothing. If they couldn't even deal with each other after a day like today, what hope did they have for any other days.

 

“Don’t tell me what I do or don’t know.” Neil spat, rounding on Andrew. He felt shaky and out of control. He only realised his arm was raised, fist cocked back when Andrew lifted his chin in challenge.

 

Neil turned to stare at his own fist, the anger bleeding out to be replaced by a cold slimey dread. It was never Andrew he was angry at, it was the situation, and it was feeling all the feelings Andrew wouldn’t allow himself to feel. Neil suddenly had the flash of an image pass through his mind; a dark study, his father's hand swinging back for a slap, his mother’s cold, cold emotionless eyes, her head snapping back, and her expression remaining the same blank slate. Neil’s arm dropped. He tried to take a step back, stumbled and was caught by the hand Andrew fisted in his shirt.

 

In a blink, Andrew pulled him and reversed their position, pushing Neil against the car door, holding him down, palm flat on his chest. His arm came up deliberately.

 

“This is how you throw a punch.”

 

Neil saw the punch coming, aimed for his face and closed his eyes. He didn't try to break away or dodge, he closed his eyes and braced himself because he deserved it. He had pushed too hard and asked for things he had no right asking for.

 

There was no impact, instead the sound of breaking glass right by his ears. Neil opened his eyes to blood.

 

Andrew had punched through the driver's side window, fist clean through the glass. His voice sounded like it had been dragged over razors when the words finally left him.

 

“This is what happens when I try to feel.”

 

It was like a bucket of ice water over his head, the blood was so red, the smell so close to his face. Andrew tried pulling his hand back but it just caught on more shards of glass.  
  
“Andrew, stop.” Neil’s voice shook as he pulled away from the car, panic winning out his rationale for the few precious seconds it took Andrew to use his other hand to break open the glass around his arm and pull his fist back.

 

He looked at his hand cynically, and then tried prying the largest of the glass shards out.

 

“Stop, you need stitches.” Neil’s hands raised in front of him, shook uselessly. He thought briefly about running inside the court for the first aid box, but the sight of Andrew’s blood after having to relive that awful day was too much. Neil didn’t trust himself to take care of Andrew like this.

 

“Ple- Get in the car I’m driving us to Abby’s you need stitches.”

 

Andrew didn't protest. He just held his hand up and got in the passenger seat. There wasn’t even anything to wrap it in and little drops fell on his dark trousers. Neil had driven in worse conditions with more injuries, so he just got in and brushed away the glass from the driver's seat.

 

He used the steadiness required for driving to clear his head, or at least attempt it. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Nicky was wondering if this was their first fight.

 

“You’re paying for the repairs,” is what Andrew said, then didn’t speak for the entirety of the short drive to Abby’s.

 

Neil didn't even notice the lack of car outside until he was banging on Abby’s door. It was only when he tried opening the door, which was always open anyway, did he turn and realise that Abby wasn't even home. Andrew stood behind him, dripping blood onto the porch.

 

He’d just made up his mind to drive to Wymack’s when he heard the the door behind him unlock.

 

He flipped around to find an unexpected figure peeking out from behind Abby’s door. His first thought was that he’d pulled up at the wrong house in panic.

 

It was a young girl, all blonde hair and sleepy eyes looking him up and down in suspicion and confusion.

 

“Who are you? Where’s Abby?”

 

* * *

 

 

**Mari**

 

She had seen him before, behind screens, from the stands in the court at Edgar Allen, in picture frames, on camera. But this was the first time Mari had come this close to her twin brother. Nathaniel was scant inches away, the other side of the half open door. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel. Her training and the grip of current identify were enough to keep her breath steady as she let him into the house.

 

She blinked at him, slow. Eyes tracking all over him in a completely expected move, at his eyes, blue as the ones that had looked back at her in the mirror for 19 years. Lingering on the scars marring his face,moving down to the criss crosses on his hands, and finally back up to his face as she she turned her expression to bewilderment and shock, which wasn’t exactly a hardship.

 

It was jarring. Why she expected anything else, she didn't know, but his adamant questioning was enough for her to hide her true surprise in the expected trepidation.

 

“Who are you?”

 

She took a step back.

 

“Where’s Abby?”

 

“Mari,” she says without thinking and then, “Marika, I- I’m Marika Hamill, I’ll be staying with Aunt Abby, I’m meant to help her out with the Exy team here,” it all came out in a rush.

 

“Oh.” He looked at her in confusion.

 

“Who are you? She mentioned something about some of the team living here for the summer?”

 

“Neil.” he said, then belatedly stuck his hand out, “I’m Neil Josten, Vice-Captain of the Foxes.”

 

Mari took his hand and told herself it meant nothing.

 

Behind Neil, someone muttered, “Junkie.” Suddenly Neil was propelled into action. He turned and pulled Andrew Minyard into the house behind him.

 

Mari put everything she felt into a corner of her mind and tracked the blood and shards sticking out of Andrew’s hand.

 

“Where’s Abby?” Neil repeated walking further in.

 

“You- your friend needs stitches.” she tried not to let the quaver of emotion show but still her voice shook,  “I’ll get- oh bloody hell I don't even know where Aunt Abby keeps her first aid kit.” Mari swung around in the direction of the kitchen, but Neil was a step ahead of her.

 

“I know where it is, I’ll get it. Andrew sit on the coffee table.”

 

She didn’t look at Andrew, but she knew he was watching her. She hovered in between the kitchen and living room awkwardly. In no time at all, Neil returned with the first aid kit and was sitting on the couch with it open.

 

“What happened?” Mari asked, but neither of the boys replied.

 

Gently, Neil took Andrew’s hand, but when he tried to use the tweezers to pull the glass shards out his hands shook.

 

“Do you want me to-”

 

“I can do it.” Neil tried again. But he couldn't even grip the tweezers right.

 

Andrew put his other hand on Neil's and slowly pushed him back, taking the instrument from his hand. He viciously pulled the biggest shard out of his knuckle and hissed.

 

Suddenly, Mari forgot everything. Instinct took over. She remembered to put on her glasses just in time.

 

“Alright, stop. Stop. You’ll hurt yourself further if you keep this up.”

 

She briefly touched Neil on the shoulder, prompting him to slide out of the way, which he thankfully did. His eyes looked at her, haunted, for a brief second before he turned away.  She had enough experience with tough guys and people unwilling to admit when they needed help to bother standing back. Marika Hamil was a pushover but she was competent at her work, it was the only reason she had been given the job with the Foxes.

 

She sat in front of Andrew, grabbed the forceps and held her hand out for his his.

 

“May I?” She asked finally looking up at him. His face was impassive and she didn't let herself flinch when noting the changes. He jaw was harder, no childish roundness to soften out his features, his haircut was stylish, no hair flopping into his eyes.

 

She made herself look back down and eventually Andrew let her hold his hand and delicately begin picking out the shards. There weren’t a lot. Window glass on cars had a protective layer for just this reason. The fact that her own hands didn't shake surprised her, but she focused on the job at hand and didn’t wonder why.

 

Neil silently handed her disinfectant and a threaded needle once she was done. The silence grew heavy, and she felt the sweat break out on her neck.

 

“You probably won’t be able to to hold a racket for a few weeks.” she clicked her tongue pulling the last stitch through.

 

“Your coach warned me, but I wasn't expecting to be on the job before my first day.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Neil said not looking at her, hyper-focused on Andrew's hands as she wrapped the bandages around his knuckles and between his fingers.

 

“There you are.” She let go of Andrew’s hand. He stood up and walked out without a backwards glance. She heard the door to the second room slap shut.

 

Alone with Nathaniel, she turned to find him studying her.

 

“You’re from England?” he asked awkwardly, she knew he just wanted to follow Andrew.

 

“London.” she nodded, clearing away the first ait kit.

 

“Aunt Abby?” he asked an eyebrow raised. “You’re related to Abby?”

 

She looked up then and smiled wanly, “Not by blood.”

 

The fucking irony was not lost on her, but Nathaniel nodded like he understood.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two whole update in one month? Unprecedented!!
> 
> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr.](http://buckywithegoodhair.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also Jahz drew [“this” ](https://exyfordays.tumblr.com/post/160087912515/family-portrait-after-that-running-pic-i-wanted) awesome Wesninski family portrait and I yelled because it was the exact picture I imagined from Chapter 2!! Idk how our brain aligned so well independently like that but go give it some love.


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